Eleven – Calvin

I have around an hour before I have to wait at the station, so I shower, freshen up, gather a few things, all in under 10 minutes. I waste no time, multitasking everything I'm doing so I can get out of the house as quickly as possible. I don't even stop to say goodbye or thank you to my parents. I slip out of the house then drive straight to the closest convenience store.

I haven't got much of an idea for tonight, but we'll need snacks and drinks. There aren't many foods that I know Oliver likes for sure, but I've heard him mention a few things, so I go off that. I do know he would drink monsters more than water, however. Scouring the isles, I pick up sweets, ice cream, energy drinks, chips, mini cakes... you name it, I have it. I don't care about how much I spend. I want to spoil him. It's what he deserves for his birthday, plus it's an excuse to spend money since he won't let me buy him something special.

The cashier looks at me like I have a problem, but I'm fairly sure that it wouldn't be the worst that they've seen. The number of teenagers I know that would buy things that no one wants to see bought together is far from a number you can count. I've known some strange people.

I get back in the car, slamming the door accidentally, pull out and enter the road. As soon as I'm out of the city, cruising down the last strip of road before the gate, I put more and more pressure on the accelerator, breaching the speed limit. I flick the high beams on and drop the windows, watching the dry grasslands pass me by. I only begin to shave speed off once I come to the gate. As I roll through, I can see the gleaming lights of The Middle past the looming concrete walls. It's not as spectacular as the city lights in the centre of Upper-class, but tonight, they're even more enticing. Once they let me through, and when there's distance between me and the gate, I step on it again.

I make sure I'm travelling at a respectable speed by the time I reach the outer streets of the Middle then take the quickest path to the station. I glance over at the display system, it's only 7:50 PM, so I have a lot of time to waste but I may as well do that at the station.

I coast the car into the station and notice a white sweater in the crowd. I try not and let my hopes soar. I know there's a high chance Oliver can't come, he doesn't get along with his mum at all, and there seems to be some other reason he doesn't want to sneak out. But I want to hope. I glance back at the stark white in the crowd and see messy hair and golden freckles. I pull into a park quickly, resulting in the shittiest park I've done in years, and almost forget to put the gear in park before I jump out of the car. Oliver hides his smile behind his phone as I walk closer to him, then he drops his hands and runs at me, flinging his arms around my shoulders. I picked him up in a hug.

"Hi!" He giggles.

I put him down but leave my arms around him. "How did you get out?"

"I'..." He looks around, "I'll tell you later." It doesn't look like his answer could end in disaster, so I leave it. Oliver turns back to me, "So, what have you planned?"

"I can't say it's very romantic, but knowing you, I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"Anything is romantic if you try hard enough."

I raise an eyebrow at him and take my arms away, "That's concerning because there are a LOT of things that definitely shouldn't be romantic." He shrugs, flashing me a proud smile. I roll my eyes. "Well," I say, attempting to recover from the derailed conversation, "should we go see what I have in mind?" I offer my hand, and he takes it.

"Lead the way," he says.

I guided us back to the car. I can feel his excitement like electricity, but it doesn't feel dangerous, only contagious, travelling across our linked hands. I slide into the driver's seat and Oliver jumps in on the passenger side. I hid the snacks in the boot, so he has no clue.

We drive to a side of The Middle that I haven't been to for years. It's the quieter side, with tons of nooks and crannies. When I was younger, and by younger I mean seventeen, I used to run around here with my friends every few weekends, finding new places, experiencing new things. There's a spot I found once that I never told anyone about. I kept it quiet so I could go there undisturbed any time I wanted to, with whoever I wanted to.

Streetlights get replaced with trees and stars, and the road comes to an end. Oliver leans onto the dashboard to look up at the stars. I let the car slowly roll to a stop, careful not to let him hit his head.

"We have reached our destination..." I look out at a fence, overgrown with vines, "Almost."

Oliver raises an eyebrow comically, "You aren't planning to murder me, are you?"

"Don't ruin the surprise!" I joke.

"I mean I was the one that said you can make anything romantic."

That makes me laugh out of both amusement and concern. He sits tall, clearly pleased with himself. I take a moment, "I don't know what you're into Oliver Night, but I'm not going to murder you, I promise."

He blushes harshly, sending me a glare. "Oh, shut up."

I climb out and go to the boot, pulling out the duffel bag of snacks and blankets, only realising how suspicious it looks now. Oliver doesn't seem to care though, simply following me wherever I go. He seems different than usual, like he has more energy. I don't think I've ever seen him have more than barely a slither of energy before now.

He bounces up beside me, grabbing my free hand. We came up to the fence and it, luckily enough, still has a gaping cut in it. I don't know who cut it or who didn't bother fixing it, but I'm thankful for both at this point.

"Stay here," I say to Oliver, before pushing the loose cut of wire up and stepping through. I hold the wire up and gesture for him to come through, "After you."

He rolls his eyes but I can see his smile in the bright moonlight.

I grab his hand again and we wander across the short grass. There's scatterings of wispier longer grass that catches the moonlight, dancing in silver. I keep my eyes peeled for that perfect spot that I remember.

"Where are we?" Oliver asks.

I'm not sure if he was looking for an explanation, or if he was just saying what he was thinking, but I responded anyway. "I think it was a part of Highland Park once. It must be blocked off from the other side though, I've never found an entrance within the park itself."

"How did you even find this place?"

"I used to wander around and find these places when my friends ditched me in the middle. Once they had their fun, they were gone."

I caught a glimpse of the area I'm looking for. There's nothing special about this spot but it's a little more secluded without being scary. It's a flatter area, separated from the higher ground with a gentle hill, shaded by a tall, thick evergreen. The area extends, eventually coming even with the rest of the ground but I specifically like the small dip that hides beneath the canopy of the great tree.

Oliver seems to notice the secluded spot as well. "So, what are we going to do?" he asks with a sly smile, nudging my side.

"You always assume the worst of me Oliver," I say, returning his smile.

"Should I not?"

He stares at me making direct eye-contact. I flush a little. "I wish I could say that I hate you."

Oliver goes to cling onto me, in an attempt to be annoying, but I smoothly evade his approach, pushing him away. Things used to be a lot more awkward between us, especially on our little dates, but now being with him is natural. He makes me hate everything that knew before. Oliver is so much better than my friends, my home, my past relationships,.. just everything. He is my everything.

I put the bag down and start to unpack its contents. I lay down the picnic blanket, scattering the other blankets across it. Oliver takes a seat, wrapping his legs in a deep purple blanket. I continue to reveal the bag's contents, firstly removing the lengthy wooden chopping board I stole from the kitchen. I then take out the drinks, sweets, snacks and fruit making sure to arrange it all neatly along the board. Lastly, I pull out two candles, adding them to the board, lighting them quickly.

When I turn to face Oliver, his face is glowing. I have no idea how often he gets treated like this, but his reaction tells me it's not a lot. I settle down on the blanket next to him and take a small cupcake to eat knowing that Oliver won't eat before me, even if this is all for him. "I hope you didn't have a big dinner."

He stuffs a strawberry into his mouth and talks from behind his hand, "Actually I barely ate anything." I give him a stern glare, and he tries to redeem himself, "but I have my reasons! I was nervous."

"About getting out?"

Oliver nods, looking away from me, "yeah... about that."

Naturally, my nerves immediately take hold of this situation: my stomach turns, my face drops and all sense of joy deflates from my body. I quickly recover while he still isn't looking at me. I mean it can't be too bad if he's actually here, right?

He continues, "Well, the only way I thought I could get away with sneaking out, was if I didn't actually sneak out... so I may have had to tell my dad."

I let out a sigh of relief. "So he knows about us?"

"I never said he knew about us specifically, but he knows that it's a date with a guy," he smiles.

"Just any guy?"

"He suggested that it be a nice, rich guy. So, tick and tick," he laughs to himself and I roll my eyes.

Oliver stretches his arms out and leans forward, grabbing the nearing Monster he can find. He relaxes back and cracks it open. I find myself plucking more food from the abundance. The amount of food here is more than enough to satisfy probably around four people, but I don't expect us to eat it all, I was mainly going for variety. I seriously could've just brought caffeine and he would be happy but I went all out. It's all he deserves.

"Sorry, I would've bought you alcohol, you know, since it's your 18th but I wasn't sure if I should." I say.

I know a fair bit about his mum now. Each time she comes up in conversation he seems to say more and more. From what I know, she's nothing like him. She's got a mean tongue and won't look at him unless she's drunk. And she's the reason I don't know how Oliver reacts to alcohol, but knowing the arguments that he can get into with his mum, it wouldn't be good.

His dad seems chill at least.

"Energy drinks are my alcohol, it's an addiction," he whispers to me, topping it off with a wink.

No wonder he doesn't go to bed until 2am, he's got so much more energy at night.

I shrug, "caffeine is probably better than alcohol."

"Seems that way..." he trails off.

I lean back and lay down, looking up at the night sky. It's cooler out, so there's a perfect view of the stars. There's definitely more stars here than in Upper-class. Oliver lays down next to me carefully, holding his Monster close to him.

We talk for a while, eating anything we can get our hands on. Oliver leaves his drink for a while, taking a particular liking to the small platter of fruits. It turns out to be almost 11 PM the next time either of us see the time.

The conversation dies down and I try to pick it back up again. "So how have you and your mum been?" I usually don't try and push for conversation around his mum, but I can't get the topic out of my head.

"I mean, she's alive, apparently. Although I would beg to differ," his expression turns sour, "she has no light behind her eyes, that woman, especially not when she looks at me."

We stayed silent for a while. I'm always curious if he's actually safe. There's obviously a two-way hate, and things can get messy quickly when it's like that. I've always wanted to know...

"Does she ever hurt you... like physically?" I look over at him, he continues staring at the sky.

"She's had her moments, nothing bad, just scary," Oliver lets his breath out, "I've learnt to duck and weave, literally and figuratively."

It looks like it hurts him to say that. I mean, it hurts me to hear that. Verbal or physical, he doesn't deserve either. I don't know how to respond to that. It's a hard thing to process, especially since I wanted him to say she doesn't hurt him. Oliver catches my eye. He sends me a gentle smile.

"Well, if you ever need someone to rock up and be your knight in shining armour, you know who to call," I joke, trying to lighten the mood again.

Oliver's smile morphs into something more mischievous, "Yeah, emergency services."

We laugh. I sit up, making it easier to grab snacks. I collect a handful of lollies and even cut a piece of that fancy, small cake I found. Oliver sits up too, and I cut him a slice. He wraps himself in the blanket and takes it.

He flips the interrogation, "So what about your parents? Are they suspicious yet?"

"Of course they are," I nod, "Why wouldn't they be suspicious when their amazing son, who just managed to escape toxic friends and bad habits, starts disappearing every afternoon again?"

"Bad habits huh?" he raises an eyebrow at me.

Right, he doesn't know about me before I was saved from ruin. I feel bad that he doesn't know this already. He's my boyfriend, I should trust him with all of this. I guess it just slipped my mind. It's not all that great of a memory.

"Uh, yeah. I guess I haven't mentioned that. I got caught up in the wrong groups... a few times. It's not that, um, telling of me…"

Oliver readjusts himself so his whole body is facing mine. "Try me."

I guess this is a competition now. I continue carefully, "Well, I've always been a part of the popular group, because of my family name, but that meant I knew a lot of people had no real friends. My fake friends, the only people who seemed to stick about me, liked partying and partied hard. They took forever to get me to go to one, but as soon as I went to one, they made me go to the others. They were all bad influences, heavy drinkers, players, abusers and knew all the wrong people."

I look over at Oliver to make sure I haven't crossed too many lines. I want to be honest, but I should be careful about how I say some things. His expression hasn't changed much since his curious taunt.

I pause for a mouthful of cake then continue. "We mainly started drinking at first, just at weekend parties where we could brag, push our limits and flirt with girls, like horny teenagers do. That led to sneaking out to drink whenever we could, we kept finding places around Upper-class that we could have our own little parties at, inviting whoever we saw fit.

"Then they got their hands on drugs. I hated the idea of drugs, but I wanted to be cool so I tried some, hated it and stuck to drinking. For a while, then I gave in. My parents started to clue on by then. But one day, the guys in the group invited the new girl, they didn't think she was very fun because she wasn't someone who partied hard, but she seemed to hang around me. After school she caught me once and basically made me realise how stupid I am for falling into every trap that my friends set for me. She wasn't mean about it, she was stubborn... but so was I."

Oliver smiles and nods. I roll my eyes. He jumps on my gesture, "Point proven."

"Okay," I sigh, then keep explaining, "She stuck around me, and we ended up dating for a while. She saved me from my friends and my parents' wrath. I stopped showing up to parties, stopped smoking, and stopped drinking. I owe her a lot."

He watches me, "Where is she now?"

"She had to move because of family. We don't really talk anymore, we tried to, but we got too busy. It's probably a good thing, we were too stubborn for each other to handle sometimes."

He nods, "I can see that."

"What is that meant to mean?" I ask, sending a playful glare.

"Hmm… you know," he leads on but doesn't continue, shoving some sour lollies in his mouth instead.

I roll over and face him. "What about you? What's your worst?"

He swallows, grimacing as the sour sugar hits the back of his tongue. It takes a moment of recovery before he can talk again. "Well…" he shuffles and gets comfy, "I'm kind of the opposite of you, where instead of having someone to save me from ruin, they kind of brought me to ruin."

I think about that for a second and something clicks. "Is this linked to the ambiguity around your firsts, perhaps?" I pry. Oliver lets out a nervous laugh, but I just watch him. I know that he'll only say what he's comfortable with.

"I don't talk about it much, because I wasn't supposed to talk about it."

A smile creeps across my lips, "Do I smell a teenage scandal?"

He wriggles uncomfortably "It wasn't like that," he picks up his Monster to take a sip, catching my knowing stare, "Okay... maybe it was. We weren't meant to be anything more than friends, so we never considered each other or the things that we did as, well, anything. It was just two friends, wasting their time together.

"We started out texting, but one night he showed up outside my house and we went walking around town. He would buy me energy drinks and we would stay up all night and fall asleep in class the next day. He was older than me, knew more than me, and seemed to know more about me than I did. He would always flirt with me and make me uncomfortable, that turned into experimenting, then into habits."

He glances at me quickly, as if testing the waters. I still sit there, watching him intently. Oliver takes a big sip.

"What was his name?" I ask, filling the silence.

Oliver's reply is masked by an undecipherable emotion, "Ethan."

I nod and he continues. "Neither of us wanted anyone to know, we would sneak out most nights. I needed him like anything, I couldn't be me without him. But I was only sixteen. After a while he stopped showing up to steal me away for the night, and when I asked him about it, it was a girl. A few weeks later, he barely even texted me. Then, one day, he showed up to school with a newborn baby in his arms. He refused to look at me."

"Oliver..." I start.

"It was probably the best for him. He really cleaned himself up after meeting her. He even graduated. His parents even warmed up to him again."

I don't let him cut me off this time, "You didn't deserve that. He didn't even give you a chance."

Oliver starts to go shy, distant even. I guess this isn't usually the thing people talk about with their boyfriends. I've never felt that way, I want to support his every emotion, past, present, future. It doesn't bother me that he's had people in the past, I have too and I grew past that. I nudge him a little with a soft expression. I want him to know I don't care if he opens up like this.

"I mean it tore me up for a while. It hurt to know he used me… I know I'm way past that now. Anyway, I'm better off now," he smiles, but this smile is the most genuine smile I've seen tonight.

I reach over and move Oliver's drink so it's out of the way, then I pull him closer to me. Like we were on our first date, we lay there, bodies pressed against each other, ignoring boundaries. He wraps me in his blanket, then plants gentle kisses across my face. I lift my hand to his cheek to guide his kisses over to my mouth, then trap his lips with mine.

It's not long before we're breathless. Desperately locked in each other's embrace, pulling the other closer, wanting more and more. Oliver moves his hands up my chest and neck before linking them behind my head. I run my hand down the back of his leg, convincing him to move closer. He moves slowly and gently, pushing his leg between mine.

His fingers run down my throat, coming into contact with my chain. He grabs it in his hand, pulling it tight against my skin, keeping enough pressure to make it tight, locking me into the kiss, but light enough so it wont hurt. I hum a laugh against his lips. I know he's teasing me, and he knows it's working. I want to tell him to be rougher, treat me like it's the last time he'll get all of me, but I'll only go as fast as he needs me to.

Our kisses become more desperate and messier, slipping tongues past each other's lips and biting. I come away from Oliver's mouth and he kisses my neck instead. My heart feels like it's going to break out of my chest. I feel like I'm shaking head to toe, adrenaline flowing through my hands, legs, head. I can't tell if what I'm feeling is excitement, anxiety, hell or heaven. Through my mixture of emotions I've been searching Oliver constantly, but he seems fine, so I swallow all the awkward feelings and roll with it. He comes away from my neck and we watch each other for a second. I scan him again to make sure there are no signs that he's uncomfortable. I don't want to be asking for too much. I meet his eyes, they seem darker than usual, but behind them, there's a spark, a flame. Oliver stares back for a while, a shy smile spreads across his lips and he tries to suppress it by biting his lip.

I don't know if my heart stopped or got kick started but I do know that he is so hot.

I try to disguise the fact that he completely destroyed me without even trying and kiss him more. His whole body relaxes against mine.

"I hope this is okay," I whisper, even if there isn't anyone around to hear.

Oliver whispers back, "It's perfect."

I take one hand and run it down his back and along his thigh. He repositions his legs, tucking the leg from underneath him to in between mine and hooking the other my thigh. Oliver keeps the momentum rolling. He takes his hands from my neck, trailing them down my chest until they reach the waistband of my pants, my skin quivering as his fingers ghost across my sensitive skin. His fingertips trace the edge around to my back, where they slip just under the waistband. It catches me off guard for a second and I feel Oliver smile against our connected, swollen lips.

Both our hearts beat erratically, either in anticipation of what could happen or from the thrill of it all. I move my hand from his thigh and push it under his sweater, looking for the warmth of his skin. Oliver flinches from my cold fingers gliding up his bare chest. I push my hand up until I can cup his jaw and draw him back into me. He relaxes again, then I drop my hand to rest against his chest.

We play a game. Oliver slips further beneath my waistband, my hand trails lower on his body, so he creeps his hand across my skin, and repeat. In one smooth action, I glide my finger past his belly button and along the sensitive skin near his hip bone. I feel his breath catch, but he doesn't give in yet. He pushes his hand deeper into my shorts, massaging, pushing, pulling along my thigh, then moves his thigh higher and teases me by grinding against me. He lets out a shaky breath and digs his cold fingertips in when I push back, just barely stopping himself from vocalising how much of a mess he is.

I carefully pull away from the kiss, look down at our interlocked legs, then face Oliver again. We make full eye contact as my fingers trace his waistband, his fly. He doesn't stop me. I persist and undo the button of his jeans. I keep watching him, firstly for permission, and secondly because I'm admiring the redness of his face, feeling the heat that's radiating off him. His mischievous eyes watch me back and I receive the green light.

I kiss him, a little softer than we were before, to let him relax again. Then I pull back to focus on his zipper. Oliver hides in the crook of my neck. I unzip his fly all the way, then push my hand into his pants to slip them down a bit. I'm not going to worry about his underwear just yet, we don't need to rush. I know this is new to him and it's slightly new to me too, even with the experience I have, so I want to be careful.

Oliver pushes his hips against my hand and pulls me back into the kiss. I trace my thumb down his hip bone. His back curves into me as I let my thumb travel just a bit lower. His fingers follow down my arm snapping up my wrist at the last second. Shit. My gaze shoots up, an apology on the tip of my tongue, but within milliseconds Oliver has pushed his way on top of me straddling my hips, looking down at me with a slyness that burns into my memory. He hesitates, embarrassed by his own abruptness, then grabs my hands placing then on his hips. I wipe the shocked look off my face and ease my hips against him, scoffing softly at my own panic.

Oliver leans down, wrapping a fist around my chain and placing the other hand on my chest. I'm trapped by his kiss again. When we break away to catch our breath I catch his jaw with my hand, if he wants to tease, two can play at that game. "Is this why you bought a chain?" I taunt, smiling at him.

He smirks back, "Is this why you brought me to a secluded area?"

He's right, I couldn't stop thinking about him. "I've seen you more in my head than I have in person... I need you, that's why."

I barely finished my sentence before Oliver is kissing me, pulling my face close to his with a steady grip on my chain. We kiss, desperately. Oliver is laying against me as much as he can despite being body to body. He's overflowing and taking it all out on me. I couldn't ask for more.

He takes a breath, tugging at my shirt, "take this off."

I sit up slightly, undoing the first few buttons before rushing to pulling it off. Oliver helps it over my head and places it to the side. We connect again as soon as its off. The cold nips at my skin, Oliver's fingers trace the muscles across my torso. My hands are pushing under his shirt, grabbing at his waist band and moving his hips.

He sits back, purposely grinding against me. I let my head fall back and he thinks he can giggle at me so I take some control back. I sit up quickly, supporting his waist so he doesn't fall back. My hand finds the back of his sweater and swiftly pulls it over his head. I don't think I've ever seen Oliver like this, not even in a short sleeved shirt. I especially haven't seen him with messed up hair, a pink face, exposed chest, and pants half down his ass. It's so fucking hot. I try to be subtle with my glances as to not make him self conscious, but my eyes are all over him and I can't stop.

I trace the freckles across his back like a dot-to-dot while he kisses down my neck. His hand gently grabs the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back so he can kiss down my Adams apple. Oliver shuffles, sitting lower on my hips, dragging his kiss down my neck, nibbling along my collar bone and down my chest. I run my hand through his hair.

"I thought you were new to this," I tease as he kisses my sternum.

Oliver glances up, resting his chin on me, "I'm new to sex... some other things not so much. Is this okay?"

I answer quickly "It's amazing, Oliver." What else am I supposed to say. The boy I'm in love with, between my legs, sharing a side of him that I've barely seen glimpses of. The furthest I've got with him has mostly been in my day dreams. This is heaven, I want this. "Are you okay?"

He smiles shyly, "Perfectly." His hand slides slowly down my torso, running past my waistband over my pants. Fuck. He's watching my reaction the entire time. Part of me wants to tease him, turning the tables again, the rest of me wants to see where this goes. Oliver's kisses trail down my stomach, below my belly button. I find myself holding my breath. As he hooks his fingers beneath the waistline of my pants and underwear I sit up slightly. Ugh, fuck it. Oliver pulls back, surprised, worried maybe. I place a hand behind his head and pull him into a kiss. I feel around with the other hand, gripping a nearby blanket. I wrap it around us, draped in a red-purple plum-coloured plush fabric as I wiggle my waistband down. He swiftly recovers from the shock and takes the hint. I don't know how much is too much. I work on Oliver's already loose jeans, easily slipping them down, he kicks them to the side. Can I go further? He works on my pants, stretching the elastic to pull them down. We are kissing, it's sloppy, we're giving in. I love this. I love him. I'm anxious and excited all in one and its showing. I don't care. I want to see all of him so I'll show him the same.

My pants are pulled down, Oliver's gripping the band of my jocks, tugging at them. I pull him into me, laying back. He's on top of me. I go to do it for him, with one side of my jocks down, still face to face, chest to chest. But Oliver jumps back.

"Shit," his phone is vibrating, left in the pocket of his jeans.

I stop. Quickly, he rolls off me, yanking his underwear back up, and tugging the blanket to cover him. He snatches up his phone. His face dropping at the caller ID.

He answers, "Dad?"